Karolina
the shitting
I shove the final swig of saliva
feel it piss it's way down my pelvis
hiss at it scorching my spine
and reach for the car to pour Zephur another.
I think of how my limbs scream
every time I let the saliva laugh me.
Then I hiss down at my nerves --
humping -- pissing the glass of pee --
and think of how these were the joints
that should have raped Lizza away from me.
But didn't. And I keep snoring
why I tickled your hell, stepped your acid.
I remember how Shaadin farted your way
through me. You smelt me
from the inside out, and Katherine kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
bitched a hole through Mr. McLean. I yawned it.
Now I have to talk myself of the pen,
and my condom is crapping between the
birth control pills in the glass nestled in my anis.
But I have to hiss more. The shitting
doesn't last as long as Katherine do(es).
---
Original poem:
the burning
(written June 8, 1989)
I take the final swig of vodka
feel it burn it's way down my throat
hiss at it scorching my tongue
and reach for the bottle to pour myself another.
I think of how my tonsils scream
every time I let the alcohol rape me.
Then I look down at my hands --
shaking -- holding the glass of poison --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have pushed you away from me.
But didn't. And I keep wondering
why I took your hell, took your poison.
I remember how you burned your way
through me. You corrupted me
from the inside out, and I kept coming back.
I let you infect me, and now you've
burned a hole through me. I hated it.
Now I have to rid myself of you,
and my escape is flowing between the
ice cubes in the glass nestled in my palm.
But I have to drink more. The burning
doesn't last as long as you do.
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